Disclaimer: I do not own Grand Theft Auto, or Liberty City. This story was inspired by the GTA 4 DLC games, and features Gordon Sargent as the main protagonist.

This is also a restart of an earlier story I had going, placed under the same name. However, this time I'm aiming for a more serious and better planned story. Anyway, on with the show!

Grand Theft Auto: Favors for Kenny
Chapter 001: Job Gone Wrong

Gordon Sargent's Apartment - Steinway, Dukes [Liberty City]
November 11, 2008 - 6:00 PM

Gordon Sargent looked at himself in the mirror that rested in the bathroom of his Dukes apartment. He was a man reaching middle-age rapidly, and talked at a slow pace, a result from a tragic head injury when he was just 7. He had thin brown hair on his head, and had the beginnings of a goatee on his face. He wore his usual outfit, a black leather jacket over a gray hoodie, as well as black jeans and a pair of dark green sneakers. It had been about a week since Packie McReary had left Liberty City, and Gordon had resorted to doing more grunt work for the Irish Mob.

Gordon's phone rang, and he answered the black Whiz Wireless cellphone. "What is it?"

"It's time to get moving, Gordo," the voice of Derrick McReary said.

"Gotcha," Gordon replied, hanging up as he left the small apartment.


With a Glock 22 stashed in his jacket, Gordon walked down the sidewalk as he approached the Concord Avenue-Franklin Street intersection. He waited for a second, but soon a dull green Burrito pulled up. Behind the wheel was Tony, a young Irish mobster with a shaved head. He wore a dark green shirt, with stonewashed jeans and a pair of converse shoes.

"Come on Gordon, get in the back," Tony said.

"Since when do you give orders?" Gordon asked as he walked to the back of the van, opening the door and climbing in next to three other mobsters (Whose names he never bothered to learn).

"Since Derrick put me in charge of this job," Tony said. "So don't get on my fucking nerves, and I might just give you a cut of the haul."

Gordon stayed silent as Tony drove the van out of Steinway, heading toward the Dukes Bay Bridge that connected Dukes to Bohan.

"Alright, ladies, for those of you who didn't get the intel from Derrick, I'll explain our job," Tony said. "We're heading to the Triangle Club, a front for those two Garcia brother spics. We're going to shoot the place up, steal a package of coke from the place, then get out before the cops show. Got it?"

The Irish mobsters grunted in response as they continued toward the other borough.


The Triangle Club - Northern Gardens, Bohan [Liberty City]
November 11, 2008 - 6:20 PM

The mobsters' Burrito pulled up into the parking lot outside of the Triangle Club, and each one piled out. The five mobsters walked up to the front door, where a large Dominican man in black clothing stopped them.

"Where you boys think you going?" the man asked in a rough voice.

"Inside to see the ladies," Tony said. "Not to stay out here and talk to your ugly ass."

"I'll pretend you didn't say that," the man said. "Now go on and leave."

"Right away," Tony said, turning his back before turning around and stabbing the man in the throat with a knife. The man fell to the ground, choking, and died on the spot.

"C'mon boys, let's go!" Tony said, taking his knife out of the man's throat and cleaning it, walking into the building.


The five mobsters walked in, each hiding a weapon underneath their clothes, and looked around. The club was loud, blaring out loud music across a large room filled with a crowd. A door to their right was locked, with a sign on it reading "Manager Only", and they quickly decided the coke would probably be stashed in there. A bar sat nearby, manned by a young man dressed in formal clothing. They decided the first priority would be to find a way into the Manager's Office. A stripper walked by them, winking at one of the thugs.

"Stay focused boys," Tony said. "Listen to some conversations and see if you can track down any of these smug bastards."

The little group scattered through the club, and Gordon calmly walked to the bar, taking a seat and ordering a shot of Pißwasser. He listened to two Dominican men that stood nearby.

"Where'd Franco head off to? I ain't seen him all night."

"He's sitting on that package until the Garcia Brothers show up. You know how he is, so paranoid he's locked him and the package up in the Manager's Office."

"Sounds just like Franco."

Gordon downed his shot and placed the small glass on the bar, getting up and walking toward a couch set up near a pole and stage. He took a seat, relaxing in it as he watched the woman on stage dance. However, just as he had started to get comfortable, Tony walked up.

"You find out anything?" he asked Gordon, taking a seat next to him.

"Yeah, some guy named Franco is in that locked up office near the door, trying to hide their latest stash," Gordon revealed. "From what I heard, he's a paranoid fuck. First sign of trouble, he'll make a break for it."

"Great," Tony said. "The only people with the keys to that room are the manager, the Garcia Brothers, and Rodrigo, the head bouncer."

"Well, where is Rodrigo?" Gordon asked.

"I heard someone say he's out back, testing one of the new girls," Tony said, sliding the knife he used earlier toward Gordon discreetly. "I want you to go find him, get rid of him, and then bring me the key to the office. Then we can deal with Franco."

Gordon looked at Tony for a second, considering smarting off, but instead took the knife, sliding it into a pocket. "I'll get right on that."

"Good boy," Tony said as Gordon got up, walking toward the backroom.

Gordon walked toward the back room, nodding to a nearby bouncer as he made his way into the back hallway. He stopped near the backroom, where a large Spanish man, dressed in dark clothing, sat on a small couch. A young woman, with shoulder-length brown hair, stood in front of him, wearing only a red thong and a tight red bra. Gordon hoped he wouldn't have to kill her too. She wasn't a bad looking girl, even if she was a bit young.

Gordon looked into the room, and the man glared up at him as the woman moved to his lap. "Wait your turn, muchacho. I'm not big on sharing anything. Especially ladies."

Gordon calmly walked into the room, reaching into his pockets. "I ain't here for the girl."

The bouncer glared at Gordon and pushed the girl aside, walking up to Gordon. "This ain't that type of club, muchacho, and I ain't that type of guy. So my advice to you is to roll on out, before I have to throw you out."

Gordon swiftly punched the man in the face, stunning him for a second. The man, whose lip had been split, spat a small amount of blood on the floor before punching at Gordon again. Gordon ducked the punch and landed a left hook in the man's gut, knocking the air out of him. Gordon pulled out the knife and caught the man in a headlock, putting the knife at his throat. Before the man could scream for help, Gordon quickly slit his throat, causing the man to fall to the ground, blood coming out. The dancer looked up at Gordon scared.

"Please, let me live," she said, holding back tears.. "I'm just a college student. I needed to make some money so I could keep going to Vespucci, so I took this job."

Gordon blinked at her, considering it. If he killed her, then he knew nobody would catch on to his killing. But could he really kill a woman? Killing a couple of gangsters or smug bouncers was one thing, but killing a girl...

"Please, I won't tell anyone, just let me leave," she begged.

Gordon pocketed the knife again, pointing at the back door of the club. "Get out of here. But if I hear you tell anyone what happened here, I'll hunt you down, got it?"

The girl nodded and got up. She kissed Gordon on the cheek and ran out the back door. Gordon stood dazed for a second, and then rubbed the girl's lipstick off of his face, turning to the dead bouncer. He searched his body, pulling out a black leather wallet. In it, he found a driver's license, a FLEECA card, and $25. He pocketed the money and threw the wallet into a corner. He searched further, finding a set of keys. Pocketing the keys, he dragged the body and hid it beneath the couch.

Gordon walked out, stopping at the couch where Tony waited. "So?"

"I got the keys, and Rodrigo won't be a problem," Gordon said calmly.

"Good, come on, we'll meet up with the rest of the guys outside," Tony said, pulling out his cell phone.


The Triangle Club - Northern Gardens, Bohan [Liberty City]
November 11, 2008 - 6:40 PM

Standing around the corner of the Triangle Club was Tony, a cigarette in hand. Gordon and the unnamed thugs walked up to him. He calmly flicked the cigarette to the ground, turning to the crooks.

"Alright, boys, here's the plan. You guys go and cause a distraction to get all of the bouncers away," he said, pointing to the unnamed goons. "After that, me and Gordo will go take care of Franco. No screw-ups, and if any of you try to get too smart, then I'll see to it you get sent home in a matchbox, got it?"

The group of crooks nodded, and Tony snapped his fingers. "Let's roll, bitches."

The three crooks ran into the Triangle Club, pulling out their guns, and Tony turned to Gordon, pulling out a pack of cigarettes.

"Now, we sit and wait," he said calmly, extending the pack to Gordon. "Want a smoke?"


Soon, the three unnamed crooks ran out of the club and ran into the streets, turning around to shoot at the pursuing mob of gangsters and bouncers. As the Irish crooks highjacked a Cavalcade from an unsuspecting Chinese man, the mob of angry men piled into their own cars, going into a car chase. Tony and Gordon watched as they walked toward the door.

"Man, they really pissed those guys off," Gordon said. "What'd you tell 'em to do to the poor guy?"

"To go up to the ugliest, meanest fucker in there, and spit in his drink," Tony said, smiling.

"And that caused all that chaos?" Gordon asked.

"Probably not. But I told them that if it didn't work to improvise," Tony laughed.

The two walked into the now empty club, walking up to the locked door. Gordon knocked on it.

"R-R-Rodrigo, is that you?" asked a meek voice from inside.

"Hey, watch this," Gordon whispered to Tony before mimicking the voice of the man he killed earlier. "Yeah, all those punks are gone, boss."

"W-Wait a minute, something's wrong, isn't it?" the man asked. "Y-You aren't Rodrigo, are you? G-get the fuck away from here, you cocksucker!"

"Wrong words, asshole!" Tony said as he pulled out the keys that had taken from Rodrigo.

Tony fumbled through the keys until he found the key to the room, unlocking it. They tried opening it, but it still wouldn't budge. The man on the other side, Franco, had blocked it with a chair.

"He thinks he's being smart, don't he?" Tony said as Gordon walked up to the door, Glock in hand.


On the other side of the door, Francisco "Franco" Maldonado sat, cowering. A wooden chair was stuck at the door handle in a feeble attempt to block it. On the table nearby sat three bags, all full of pure cocaine. Franco shook in fear, reaching for a pistol and nervously aiming it at the door. He heard a banging noise, shakily preparing the gun just as the door burst open. Gordon and Tony ran in, Gordon pointing his Glock at Franco.

"Both of you just b-b-back the-" Franco started.

"Shut up you stuttering freak!" Tony said. "Now, put down the gun, give us the coke, and we won't have to kill you!"

"Yeah right, I give you the coke, you let me live, but Sac and Felix kill me later. I don't give you the coke, you kill me and take it anyway," Franco said. "I know how it works, and I w-w-won't fall for it!"

Tony and Gordon looked at each other. "Okay, you can shoot him now, Gordo."

"Music to my ears," Gordon said. Before Franco could shoot, Gordon shot Franco in the hand, sending his gun flying into the corner of the room.

Franco clutched his bloody hand, cursing under his breath in stuttered breaths. Gordon walked up to him, pointing it at his head. Before Franco could beg for his life, Gordon fired at him twice, killing Franco instantly. Tony ran over, placing a bag over his bag and taking one in each hand.

"Come on, let's get out of here!" Tony said, walking to the door, stopping abruptly. "Those spics are on their way back, Gordo!"

"Alright, I'm coming," Gordon said, but before he could turn, a gunshot rang out, and Gordon placed a hand at his back, drawing it back and seeing blood on it.

Gordon feebly tried to turn and see who shot him, but he collapsed to the ground, looking up as, through closing eyes, he saw Tony run to the back door.


There is the first Chapter of my latest story. Anyway, what do you think? I promise that I'll update it soon, so until next time, stay gold.